


COMPELLED - Story 1 of the Soul Magic Series

by chrmisha



Series: Soul Magic [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, Cursed Harry Potter, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Slash, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrmisha/pseuds/chrmisha
Summary: Harry Potter is cursed and only Severus Snape can help him. Forced to work together--or rather sleep together--they find themselves caught in an unusual position. Throw in lots of sex and some ancient magic, and you get something that starts off as PWP, but turns into a 3-story series with a plot and a happy ending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happens during 6th year.
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter. All credit goes to JK Rowling.

Hidden under his invisibility cloak, Harry waited. The Maurader’s Map showed the wandering path that Draco Malfoy was taking as he ascended up various staircases toward the seventh floor, where Harry was waiting. Harry wondered briefly why Malfoy didn’t have his two cronies with him. It was definitely better for Harry that he didn’t, though. No need to Stupefy the gits to get Malfoy alone.

Finally, Malfoy rounded the corner to the seventh floor corridor. The Slytherin glanced around, making sure the coast was clear. Harry had figured out weeks ago that Malfoy was using the Room of Requirement, but he’d been unable to get in. He hoped that Draco would speak loud enough that Harry could find out what he was using the room for. He planned to follow Draco inside and spy on him. But Draco didn’t announce his intentions, instead muttering the words so quietly that Harry couldn’t hear him.

Realizing he’d lose his opportunity if Draco slipped inside the door, Harry threw caution to the wind. Letting the invisibility cloak slip to the floor, he called out to the distracted blond, his wand at the ready. “Hey Malfoy! Fancy seeing you here.”

Draco whirled around, his wand in his hand, pointing at Harry.

Instead of the surprise or fear Harry expected to see, Malfoy looked triumphant.

“What are you up to, Malfoy?” Harry asked, his heart speeding up in confusion.

“Potter, Potter, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Cut the crap, Malfoy, I know what you’ve been doing,” Potter said.

“Do you now,” Malfoy replied. “If that’s so, why do you keep following me?” Draco took a step closer to Harry. “Think I didn’t notice?” Draco spat. “Think you got lucky, did you? Think you _caught_ me at something?”

“I know you gave Katie that necklace,” Potter pronounced. “And I know…” Suddenly Harry felt the charge of electricity in the air as the spells hit him. His body went rigid, his arms clapping to his sides, his legs snapping together, his jaw ceasing up. He teetered for a moment, before Draco approached him, smiling viciously. A light push to his shoulder, and Harry was falling backwards, landing hard on the flagstones, the wind knocked out of him.

As he tried to catch his breath, Crabbe and Goyle came into view, guffawing.

“You were so focused on me, Potter, you forgot to keep an eye on your surroundings. A first year mistake,” Malfoy sneered. “It’s a wonder the Dark Lord hasn’t managed to kill you already.”

Potter could say nothing with the body bind controlling his voluntary muscles. He cursed himself; Malfoy didn’t need to remind him of his own stupidity.

“Well, well, well, what should we do about him?” Draco mused.

“Kill him,” Goyle suggested. “Save the Dark Lord the trouble.”

“We should torture him first,” Crabbe suggested, cracking his knuckles.

Harry felt a tinge of fear creep into the rage that filled him. They could do whatever that wanted to him and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. And no one knew he was here, so unless a random person happened to wander into the corridor, he was at their mercy.

“Hmm…” Draco purred, walking around Harry’s prone body in a circle, his wand pointed at Harry. “I’ve been wanting someone to practice the Cruciatus curse on,” Malfoy said. “You know what that is, don’t you, Potter?”

Goyle laughed and Crabbe said, “Let me have a go, Malfoy.”

Malfoy raised a hand. “Patience, Crabbe.” He returned his attention to Potter. “The problem with the Cruciatus curse,” Draco murmured, “is that we have to stick around to administer it. I’d prefer something a bit more hands-off, if you know what I mean.”

Harry’s heart raced as sweat beaded down his back. He knew that Malfoy had planned this, and knowing Malfoy, it wouldn’t be good. He struggled against the body bind, but it was useless.

As Draco continued to circle him, he added, “Something that will do some lasting damage all on its own.”

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed. 

Harry wanted to groan.

“Something that will haunt him for the rest of his life,” Draco said.

Harry struggled harder against his invisible bindings.

“Potter!” Malfoy snapped, drawing Harry’s attention.

Harry met Draco’s gaze, portraying as much defiance in his stare as he could.

“Sweet Potter,” Draco murmured, crouching over and dragging the tip of his wand along Harry’s cheek as if it was a caress and not the clear threat that it was. “There is only person who’ll be able to help you after I’m done with you,” Malfoy purred. “Only one.”

The smirk Draco gave him made Harry’s skin crawl.

“Severus Snape,” Draco breathed, and then raised his wand.

“Libidine Cogere!”

Harry felt the spell hit him with the force of a freight train. His body bucked and fire seemed to race through his veins. Harry tried to scream, but the body bind prevented it. Through the haze of pain, Harry heard Malfoy say Snape’s name again, and some other words he couldn’t quite understand, and then his vision dimmed, his body relaxed, and he knew no more.

 

* * *

 

Harry awoke to the sensation of heat spiraling through his body. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t pleasant either. He sat up, rubbing at his arms. It felt like ants were crawling under his skin, trying to get out. He looked around the deserted corridor, realizing he was alone. At least Malfoy and his cronies had left. And Malfoy had obviously released the body bind. It could have been worse.

Harry struggled to his feet, trying to recall the details of what had happened. He hadn’t recognized the curse, wasn’t sure he could even remember it. It was something like “libi… cogee..” He hadn’t heard of it, or anything like it, before. And other than that anxious feeling coursing through his body, nothing else seemed amiss.

Gathering up his inivisibilty cloak, wand, and the Maurader’s map, he reflected on what else Malfoy had said. Something about only one person being able to help him, and that person being Severus Snape.

The moment Snape’s name entered his mind, Harry was overcome with a feeling so intense he nearly blacked out. He fell into the wall beside him, trying to breathe through the sensation. Every nerve in his body fired, and every cell in his body screamed for the man. Harry hissed out a breath, nearly coming in his pants. _What the fuck?_

He took a step forward, then another. The friction of his trousers against his straining erection had him gasping. _No no no! This was not happening!_ He tried to take another step. His mind threw up an image of Snape in his dark robes, his dark eyes filled with danger, his lips a thin line, and Harry cried out, his orgasm ripping through him, pleasure and pain all wrapped into one. Gasping, Harry rested his sweaty forehead against the wall. What had Malfoy done to him?  

_There is only person who’ll be able to help you after I’m done with you. Severus Snape._

Malfoy’s words came back to him and Harry moaned in despair. Just the thought of the man had Harry erect again. His body urged him forward, toward Snape, toward relief. This wasn’t sexual tension, this was an all-consuming, irrepressible, undeniable _need_. He tried to plant his feet, refuse to move, but his body had other ideas.

His cock continued to rub against his trousers and it was too much. Cursing, Harry waved his wand and vanished the clothes beneath his robe. Without the friction, he felt a tiny bit more in control. At least he might be able to make it to the dungeons without embarrassing himself further.

He made it two floors down, his body drenched in sweat, before he had to slip into a bathroom and release himself with his hand. The relief was only momentary, though. Whatever Malfoy had done, it was linked to Snape, and Harry doubted the curse would release him until he’d thoroughly embarrassed himself in front of the one man he loathed.

He washed his hands and looked into the mirror. His face was flushed and his breathing ragged. His lips were swollen and his pupils were too large. He looked wanton and depraved. He cursed and turned away from the mirror, wiping his sweaty palms on his robes. No wonder those two second years had shrieked and run at the sight of him when they’d crossed his path on the stairs.

Harry pulled his invisibility cloak out and threw it over himself. He made it down two more floors, his hand pressed hard against his erection beneath his cloak, trying to force back the need. How on earth was he going to make it to the dungeons?

Yet his body wouldn’t take no for an answer. His legs moved of their own accord, urging him forward. Tears sprang to his eyes as his need overwhelmed him, but he pushed on, trying to ignore it. Half-way down the staircase between the second and first floor, he came, unwillingly, crying out and biting his lip at the exquisite yet unwanted torture of it.

He slumped, invisible, against the railing, tears running down his face. Casting a cleaning spell on himself, and thankful that no one was around to hear him, he rushed down the stairs, begging his body to let him make it to Snape’s office before he completely lost it.

By the time he made it to the dungeons, he thought has losing his mind. He was sobbing and hobbling, pressing against his erection, feeling the cold air chill the sweat on his skin, causing him to shake. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to see him like this, but there was no use for it. He couldn’t deny the compulsion, couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard he tried. He cursed Malfoy repeatedly, but now Malfoy’s name came out punctuated by anguished sobs more than anger.

Harry neared Snape’s office, hoping and praying that the wizard was in. What if he wasn’t? A sound of despair broke from his throat, but a tiny rational bit of his mind—or was it the curse?—assured him that if the man was elsewhere in the castle, Harry’s body would have led him there instead.

Harry didn’t stop to knock, couldn’t stop. He turned the knob and stumbled over the threshold, his hand pressed hard against his cock, his sobs a broken moan. He lunged forward, grasping blindly for he knew not what—Release? Relief? Respite?

 

* * *

 

Snape startled at the sound of his office door being flung open. He scanned the entryway but saw no one. Yet he could hear heavy breathing and footsteps and the sound of… sobbing?

“Who’s there?” he demanded, jumping to his feet and pulling out his wand.

He felt someone crash into him, arms wrapping around him, clawing at him, as cries surrounded him.

“What the…”

And then that sobbing mass was pushing against him, _rutting against him,_ and crying out, _in pleasure???_ Fingers dug into his back and the sound of harsh breathing echoed around him.

Shock and rage coursed through Snape as he grabbed at the invisible shoulders and shoved the intruder back, hard. He heard a thud and a whimper as the figure hit the ground, and then saw black shoes and bare ankles. Snape rushed forward and grasped at the fine fabric, pulling away the invisibility cloak to reveal the person beneath. Hairy bare legs ending in black shoes poked out from beneath a Hogwarts school robe. The rest of the figure was huddled on the floor, face hidden behind arms wrapped around a dark head of hair. The figure pulled his legs to his chest, rocking and keening on the cold stone floor.

Alarmed, Snape bent down, his wand still pointed at the wizard before him.

“State your name,” Snape declared.

The figure convulsed on the floor, curling into himself more, with a moan of pain, or was that _pleasure?_ , renting the air. Snape noticed that one of the student’s hands had jerked away from its owner’s face to slide between its owners legs, pressing hard there.

 _What in the name of Merlin?_ Snape thought.

“Look at me!” Snape demanded.

The huddled mass keened louder, rocking against his own hand. Sobbing.

Snape opened his mouth to say something when the figure sprung, head down, from the floor and launched himself at Snape. Caught by surprise, Snape was bowled over backwards, landing on his back on the flagstones. Snape’s wand flew from his hand as the figure sprawled on top of him. The student kissed frantically at his neck, rubbing against his thigh like a freaking dog in heat.

As Snape struggled to push the student off of him, turning his head away from the desperate kisses, he caught the words the student was saying, over and over.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t stop it, I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry.”

And still narrow hips rubbed against his thigh as the student’s breathing increased. Finally, the student stiffened, cried out, and lay still, breathing heavily.

 “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” The words were spoken desperately, between ragged, sobbing breaths.

Snape grabbed the wizard’s shoulders again, trying to push the student away from him, but the student buried his head in Snape’s neck, wrapped his arms around Snape, and held on for all he was worth.

“Get off me,” Snape commanded through gritted teeth.

“I can’t,” the voice cried. “You’ll kill me. “Oh Merlin, you’ll kill me. I’m so sorry. I can’t stop it, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Snape fell back, sweating. “Tell me your name.”

“I can’t,” the voice whined, occasionally bucking against him and he shuddered.

Snape heard a sudden noise at the door, a squeak and a gasp. He looked up to see two 7th year Ravenclaws standing in his open doorway, their mouths agape. He realized how he must look, laying on his office floor with a student on top of him, a student who was moaning and writhing, as if they were engaged in some lurid sexual behavior. Well, he reasoned, _one_ of them was.

“McAllister, Sheive, get the Headmaster! And speak NOTHING of this to anyone else.” When the two didn’t move, he shouted, “Go! Now! And lock the damn door behind you!” After they’d scurried off, Snape tried once again to shift the wizard off of him. But the student just held on tighter and sobbed harder.

The student groaned and started moving against him more urgently.

“Stop that!” Snape bellowed, trying desperately to shift the rutting student off of him.

“I can’t,” the voice cried. “I can’t. I’m so sorry. I was cursed. I can’t stop it. I can’t help it.”

Snape stilled. _Cursed?_ His mind whirred with all the spells he knew. Only one came to mind, a dark curse used by Death Eaters… but no… not here at Hogwarts… no student would know…

Then two things happened at once. The floo in his office came to life in a flurry of green flames as Albus Dumbledore stepped through. And the student on top of him dug clutched at Snape’s shoulders and jerked into him repeatedly, shouting out as his pleasured himself against Snape’s unwilling body.

Snape groaned, and _not_ in pleasure, as the Headmaster came to stand over him, the student on top of him still shuddering with the tail end of his release.

“Severus!” the Headmaster gasped.

Snape locked eyes with Dumbledore’s shocked and angry ones.

“Albus,” Snape snapped, his gaze defiant, “this is not in the least what it looks like.” Snape had his hands on the student’s shoulders and was trying to push him off, but the student was like an octopus; his head buried in Snape’s neck, his arms wrapped tightly around Snape’s back.

“Now, please, get this student OFF of me!” Snape demanded

The headmaster’s eyes widened. “Who is it?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” Snape said, still shoving at the student. “He won’t tell me. And he won’t get off of me!”

The headmaster’s voice took on a commanding edge. “You will release Professor Snape at once, or I will be forced to make you release him.”

A loud sob sounded, but the student made no move to relocate himself.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said, and with a flick of his wand, the body atop Snape went rigid.

Snape quickly rolled the student off of him and scrambled away, grabbing his wand from where it had rolled under his desk. He stood, flinging his sweaty hair from his face, and straightening his disheveled robes as he gazed at the petrified student lying stiffly on his floor, tears streaming down his face as he keened and flung his head from side to side.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t help it. I was cursed. Please. Help me.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t help it. I was cursed. Please. Help me.”_

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged glances, lowering their wands.

“Potter,” Snape spit out, but it was with much less vehemence than normal. For as annoying as the brat was, this was beyond shocking.

Potter jerked at the sound of Snape’s voice. “Snape, please,” Potter moaned, “Please.” Potter snapped his mouth shut, but then a desperate sound escaped anyway, and he cried out. “Please Snape, I need you. Merlin help me, but I need you. Please.”

“Accio Calming Draught #5,” Snape said, his voice shaking, as he waved his wand toward his store cabinets. He caught the vial of cool blue liquid in his outstretched hand.

Dumbledore kneeled beside Potter. “What has happened to you, Harry?”

“Please, Snape, please,” Potter begged.

“Potter, you need to drink this.” Snape and Dumbledore raised Harry up enough that he wouldn’t choke and Snape poured the liquid down his throat. Harry gulped it eagerly, shivered, and stopped struggling. After a few moments, he let out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Harry gasped, looking between Snape and Dumbledore. “I can still feel it, but it’s not as strong. I can fight it now. I think.”

Nodding, Dumbledore released the body bind and Harry sat up, wiped the tears from his face, and wrapped his arms around his knees, staring resolutely at the floor.

“Harry, what has happened to you?” Dumbledore asked again.

“Malfoy,” Harry spat, then shivered again. “He cursed me.”

“With what?” Snape asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“I don’t know!” Harry cried. “I didn’t recognize the spell.”

“What did it sound like?” Snape spat. “Think, Potter, this is important!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Potter shouted. Then he started yanking at his hair and rocking back and forth.

“Potter, calm yourself!” Snape demanded.

“Severus,” Dumbledore soothed, putting a hand on his colleague’s shoulder.

“Headmaster, Potter assaulted me and…”

“And he was cursed, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “Go on, Harry, tell us what you can remember.”

“Malfoy said… he said that… Professor Snape would be the only one who could help me. The only one.” Potter gasped for breath. “Then he said something like ‘libi cogee’, or something like that, and then Snape’s name, and some other words.” Potter’s whole body shuddered and he gulped in air.

Severus had sucked in a sharp breath at Potter’s words. He glanced at the Headmaster, who shook his head, clearly not recognizing the curse.

“Was it _Libidine Cogere_?” Snape asked.

“Yeah, that sounds right.” Potter chanced a glance at Snape then dropped his eyes again. “What does it do?” he asked.

“I would think that would be clear enough even to you, Mr. Potter,” Snape chided.

Potter moaned and buried his head in his knees. “Can you stop it? Can you end the curse? Please?”

Snape sighed. “Headmaster, may I speak with you in private?”

“Certainly, Severus. Does Harry need to see Madam Pomfrey?” Dumbledore asked.

“She cannot help him with this,” Snape decreed with a dismissive wave of his hand toward Potter. He pursed his lips, trying to decide something. Then Snape said, “Potter, wait here. If you find you cannot wait any longer, the Headmaster and I will be right through this door.”

Snape waited until Potter nodded, and then led Dumbledore into his private quarters. Once inside, he shut and warded the door against eavesdropping, but did not lock it.

“Aren’t you worried he might just leave?” Dumbledore asked.

“If only I could be so lucky,” Snape replied, dropping into a chair before his fireplace and putting his head in his hands. Through his fingers, he muttered, “I take it you didn’t recognize the spell?”

“I’m afraid not,” Dumbledore said, taking a seat on the couch.

“It is one of Lucius’ favorites. Which is where Draco learned it, I am sure.”

“And what I witnessed,” Dumbledore asked, “is that the gist of it?”

Snape snorted. “It’s a compulsion spell,” Snape spat. “It makes the recipient feel unrequited lust. And Malfoy, damn him, linked the spell to _me_.”

“Ah,” Dumbledore said. “I think I see the problem.”

Snape looked up, glaring at the Headmaster. “No, I don’t think you do.”

“Please explain then,” Dumbledore said.

“Whiskey?” Snape asked, conjuring up two crystal goblets and summoning a bottle of Ogden’s Finest.

Dumbledore studied Snape, and must have found something sufficiently worrying there, because he nodded in acceptance.

Snape poured himself and the Headmaster a glass. Once the Headmaster had taken his, Snape drained his goblet in one long, burning gulp, blinked back the wetness that came to his eyes from the sting of the liquor, and refilled his cup.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

“The curse is typically used on unwilling Muggles or witches, for the benefit of the caster.” Snape bit back an oath. “Malfoy didn’t do this just to humiliate Potter, he did this to humiliate _me_ as well.”

“How so?” Dumbledore asked.

“Because the only way I know how to break the curse is to complete the act itself.” Snape scowled at Dumbledore, daring him to protest. When Dumbledore continued to calmly stare back, Snape clarified. “In other words, the only way to break the spell is for Potter and I to have sex.” Snape picked up his second goblet of whiskey and drained it once more.

“I see,” said Dumbledore gravely. “And if you do not do this, Severus? Then what will happen to Harry?”

“He will go insane.”

Dumbledore set down his goblet. “You are quite sure?”

“I have seen it happen before. The Dark Lord found that… side effect… particularly amusing,” Snape said with a sneer. “And you’ve already seen what it’s done to Potter. He can’t help himself. He _hates_ me and he can’t help himself from… from… rutting against me,” Snape finished, feeling his face flush.

Dumbledore stroked his beard. “How long will the calming draught last?”

Snape shook his head. “I expect Harry in here begging for release at any moment,” Snape said with disgust.

“Well let us use our time wisely then,” Dumbledore said, leaning forward. “If it is the only way, then you know what I must ask of you, Severus.”

Severus swore and refilled his glass of Whiskey.

“Unless you have another suggestion?”

“I don’t,” Snape spat.

“He is almost of age,” Dumbledore said.

“And yet, he is _not_ ,” Snape replied. “I would be raping a child.”

“Not in my eyes,” Dumbledore replied. “Once again, you would be sacrificing yourself to save Harry.”

Snape slammed down his goblet. “Merlin’s balls if I get my hands on Draco…”

“I will see to Draco,” Dumbledore stated.

“He should be expelled!” Snape exclaimed.

“Indeed he should be,” Dumbledore agreed, “but you and I both know that would be a death sentence for young Malfoy.”

“No more than he deserves at the moment,” Snape muttered, clenching his fists.

The headmaster opened his mouth to reply when the door from Snape’s office squeaked open.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” Harry said, standing framed in the doorway, fists clenched, teeth gritted. “I can’t… I don’t…”

Dumbledore got to his feet. “Go easy on him, Severus, it’s not his fault.”

Snape growled, grabbed Dumbledore’s untouched glass of whiskey, downed it, and glared at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore stepped up to Harry and laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “Severus will help you, Harry.”

Harry made a sound of distress and started shaking.

“I will let McGonagall know that Harry will be out for the evening,” Dumbledore said before he nodded once at Snape, stepped into the green flames, and disappeared.

“Come here, Potter,” Snape said, resigned.

Potter launched himself at Snape, who was ready this time.

Gritting his teeth at the writhing mass of nerves humping his thigh, he sighed. “Do what you need to do, Potter, then we’ll talk.”

To Snape’s surprise, Potter’s hands came up and framed his face. And then Potter was kissing him, pushing his tongue inside Snape’s slack mouth as he sought his release against Snape once more, keening in distress while crying out in release. Then the teen collapsed against him, breathing hard.

“When will it end?” Potter whined, his head buried in against Snape’s chest.

Snape locked and warded the door between his office and his private quarters. He also closed the floo connection so they could not be disturbed. Then he summoned another calming draught.

“Take this,” Snape instructed.

Once Potter had calmed, Snape began to speak. “We have very little time for conversation, Potter. The calming draught will only last half the amount of time it did before, and after this it won’t work at all.”

Potter looked up at him, his face flushed, his lips swollen, his pupils blown wide. Lust fairly dripped from his skin. Snape glanced away, unwilling to see Potter like this. He didn’t want this. He had been asked to do worse, he thought, not that it made _this_ any easier. And although Potter would more than welcome his attentions right now, while under the spell of the curse, what would the boy think when the curse was finally broken?

“Can you make it stop?” Potter asked.

“There is only one way to end the curse, Potter.”

“Please,” Harry begged. “I’ll do anything.”

Snape shut his eyes, and concentrated on the buzz of whiskey in his brain. “To end the curse we must meet its demands. In other words, Potter, we’ll have to have sex,” he spat out.

“Ok,” Harry said, pushing his renewed erection against Snape once more.

“Potter, stop!” Snape snapped.

Harry pulled back with a sob, pressing his hand to his erection as if to hold it back. “I’m sorry, Professor, _I can’t help it_.”

Snape ran a hand through his hair. “I know,” he admitted, not that the knowledge made it any easier.

“I’m sorry, Professor, I know you hate me. I know you don't want this.”

“It is the only way to free you of this blasted curse. It must be done.”

“Bollocks this hurts,” Harry said, pushing against himself harder.

Snape got to his feet. “Come on then, my bed will be more comfortable.”

Harry jumped to his feet, moaning as he followed Snape, his hands grasping at the back of Snape’s robes.

Snape wanted to push Potter away, to tell him to get out, but there was no use.

Sighing, he pulled back the green brocade covers on his four poster bed. “Get in,” he sighed, resigned.

Potter stripped off his robe and toed off his shoes.

Snape stared, open-mouthed. “What happened to your clothes?”

“They were rubbing against me when I walked and I couldn’t handle it,” Harry said, one of his hands holding his nuts, while the other clenched his cock. “I banished them.” Harry threw his head back, inhaling sharply as he fisted himself to orgasm. He cried out, and then slumped back into the mattress. “Merlin, this is awful and embarrassing,” Potter complained. “I never thought pleasure could be so painful.”

Snape bit back another oath at the sight of Potter laying naked on his bed. He was just a boy. Sixteen he may be, but his body had not yet filled out; he didn’t yet look like a man. Shaking his head, Snape methodically removed his outer robes, laying them over a chair. Then he began to unbutton his shirt as he kicked off his shoes.

“When this curse wears off, I am going to be completely mortified,” Potter said, biting his lip as he watched Snape undress, hunger clear on his face.

“I imagine we both will be,” Snape replied.

Potter sat up and then crawled to the edge of the bed. “Merlin, I want you Snape. I can’t _not_ want you. Can I help? Please?” Not waiting for an answer, Potter reached out and started undoing Snape’s belt.

Snape fought the urge to push Potter’s hands away. It wouldn’t do any good, though, and the sooner they got this over with, the better.

Potter was struggling with the fastenings of Snape’s trousers, all the while moaning in need and frustration.

“Have you ever even done this before?” Snape asked.

“What? Taken off someone’s trousers?” Harry asked.

“Had sex.”

Harry’s hands continued to cajole the fastenings until the button slid free of the hole.

“With a guy or a girl?” Potter asked, sliding down the zipper and groaning softly.

“Either,” Snape said.

Harry laughed, but there was no humor in it. “No. I haven’t done more than kiss a girl… ohhh…”

Snape sucked in his breath. Potter had managed to get Snape’s pants and boxers down and had his face buried in Snape’s crotch. Finding what he wanted, Harry sucked Snape’s flaccid flesh into his mouth, pulling and sucking on it until it grew hard, and then humming in appreciation.

“Merlin, help me,” Snape whispered, looking up at the ceiling as he held onto one of the columns of his four-poster bed for support. Potter made up for his lack of skill with sheer eagerness.

“Slow down, Potter,” Snape hissed, putting his hands on Potter’s shoulders and pushing him back into the mattress.

Potter gasped and latched onto Snape, pulling Snape down on top of him and kissing Snape frantically. Potter’s tongue darted into Snape’s mouth, seeking, begging, pleading. And Potter was pushing into his thigh again.

“It hurts,” Potter gasped. “I’ve come too many times already, there’s nothing left. Why won’t it stop?”

Still Potter rutted against him.

“Lay back,” Snape instructed, pushing Potter flat onto the mattress.

Without preamble, Snape crouched over Potter and took Potter’s erection gently into his mouth. Potter bucked and cried out, coming instantly, as Snape knew he would. There was no ejaculate; Potter had long since emptied himself. Still, hopefully coming that way was a bit less painful.

Potter was gasping for air, his heart hammering in his chest. “That was… wow….”

“I’m sure,” Snape chided. “Now how do you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

Snape grunted in frustration. “The only way to end the curse is to meet its demands.” Clenching his fists and resenting having to spell it out for the boy, he asked, “Is the curse demanding that I penetrate you, or that you penetrate me?”

“I don’t…” Potter convulsed on the bed, shuddered, groaned. “Fuck…” Potter breathed, his cock bouncing back to life. “Both,” Potter moaned, “Merlin, I need both.”

Snape groaned. “Of course you, Potter. You never can make it simple, can you?” Snape took a deep breath. “Very well, Potter, roll over.”

Potter obeyed.

“Hands and knees, Potter,” Snape said wearily. “It will be easier for you that way.”

Potter practically jumped to his hands and knees, waving his ass in the air like a baboon during mating season.

Snape grabbed his wand and cast a cleaning charm on Potter’s arse and his own, and then summoned a lubricating potion he had developed himself. He poured the viscous self-heating fluid onto his palm and rubbed his hands together. Balancing on his knees, one hand on Potter’s hip, Snape rubbed his flagging cock to hardness.

That taken care of, he closed his eyes and slid a lubricated finger into Harry’s arse. Potter keened and bucked against his finger.

“More,” Potter begged. “Please, more.”

Snape slid in another finger, and another.

“Oh, Merlin, Snape, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Snape stretched Potter, trying to ignore the needy sounds and motions Potter was making, and even more so, trying to ignore just who he was very shortly going to be fucking.

Gritting his teeth, Snape placed himself at Potter’s opening and slid in. _Sweet Merlin¸_ the teen was tight. Keeping his eyes shut, Snape closed his mind and let his body just _feel_. As long as he had to do this, he might as well try to enjoy it.

Potter raised his hips invitingly and Snape sunk in deeper, biting back his own moan. It had been so long since he’d felt this sort of pleasure with another person, man or woman. Slowly, he pulled halfway out, then slid back in, feeling the tight muscles clenching all around him.

“Yes, yes, yessss…..” Potter cried, bucking and writhing beneath him.

Snape was trying to take it slow, but Potter wasn’t making it very easy.

“Faster, please,” he begged, “More, faster, yes, like that, oh… yes… yesssss…” Potter crooned.

And then Potter did something he hadn’t expected. Potter had dropped his shoulders to the mattress, his arse still sticking up in the air for the taking. But that wasn’t what had thrown Snape. No, what had made Snape lose control was Potter’s nimble fingers reaching back and stroking his sack, softly, gently.

“Fuck,” Snape moaned. He rammed into Potter, over and over, as those fingers caressed, and nudged, slid back to his perineum and coaxed him onward. Instinctively, Snape reached out and wrapped a hand around Potter’s swollen cock.

Potter keened loudly and bucked harder, crying out Snape’s name. And then Potter, damn him, slid a finger up to Snape’s opening and pressed inside. At Potter’s intimate touch, Snape’s orgasm tore through him, fast and relentless, blinding him with pleasure, as he pumped his seed into Potter, crying out in an ecstasy that seemed to go on and on and on, vaguely aware that Potter had cried out as well.

Finally, Snape collapsed against the teen, sweating, swearing, panting. When he regained his wits, he rolled off the lad, trying to catch his breath.

“That was… incredible…” Potter panted, running his tongue along Snape’s jaw, licking at Snape’s lips.

Snape rolled onto his stomach and turned his head away. He’d had a duty to perform. It was one thing to make the most of it, it was another thing to be swept away by desire for a _child_ for Merlin’s sake. He felt sated and sick all at the same time. Come morning, Potter could claim it was all the curse. But Snape didn’t have that excuse. The only explanation he had was a lack of human touch in too many years.


	3. Chapter 3

Snape jerked at the feel of hands pushing his legs apart, followed by a warm tongue licking up the cleft of his arse.

“Potter,” he hissed.

“I want to be inside of you,” the teen said, his voice breathy and full of hunger. “I _need_ to be inside of you.”

Snape grunted. He understood, he really did. But he didn’t want this. He’d already done too much with the boy. Given more than he should have, taken even more. He groaned and buried his face in a pillow. This was sweet torture.

“I haven’t done this before,” Potter admitted. “Tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

Hands spread Snape’s cheeks wide as Potter’s tongue delved inside, licking the puckered ring of flesh.

Snape moaned and fisted the sheets. “You’re doing just fine,” he bit out, trying to keep himself from pushing back against Potter’s eager administrations.

“I want you so much,” Potter purred.

Snape felt a finger push into him, slick with saliva.

“Use the lubricant,” Snape instructed.

A moment later, Snape bit back a groan as Potter slid a slick finger inside, and then another, and another.

Snape held still, praying for this to be over soon. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.

When Potter removed his fingers, he sighed in relief, only to buck into the mattress at the feel of Potter’s tongue muscling its way inside, laving him, driving him beyond sanity.

“Potter,” he hissed, clenching his muscles. “Merlin, Potter, stop that.”

“You don’t like it?” Potter asked, sliding a hand between Snape’s legs to caress Snape’s renewed erection. Potter flicked his tongue at Snape’s entrance again, and Snape bucked and bit the pillow. “I like doing it,” Potter said, sliding his tongue back inside Snape’s tight entrance as he caressed Snape’s erection.

“Bloody hell,” Snape uttered. He flipped over, effectively knocking the boy aside. “Come here,” he demanded, his arms outstretched.

Potter came willingly, crushing his lips to Snape’s, kissing him frantically.

“Please,” Potter murmured between kisses, “I need to be inside of you.”

“I know,” Snape said, raising and spreading his legs, placing his hands behind his knees. “Go ahead.”

Potter pulled back, kneeling between Snape’s open legs and just gazing at Snape while Potter absently stroked himself. “You are beautiful, Snape,” Potter breathed, his gaze raking over Snape’s long, pale body. “Fuck, I need you,” Potter said.

Snape grunted as Potter drove inside of him. Potter wasn’t the least bit gentle or indecisive. He was filled with need and lust and compulsion. Potter grabbed the top of Snape’s thighs and drove into him, hard and fast, grunting in pleasure.

“Gods, Snape,” Potter murmured. “You feel incredible… So fucking good…”

When Potter opened his eyes, Snape was stunned by the intensity in the teen’s gaze. He looked hard and determined, biting his lip in concentration, before falling on Snape and kissing him fiercely once more.

“I know the curse started this,” Harry said against Snape’s lips, “but please don’t let me forget how this feels. Don’t let me forget how much I… I wanted this,” Harry said, trembling as he snapped his hips against Snape. “Don’t let me forget how incredible you are, how incredible you make me _feel_...”

“Potter, don’t…”

“I don’t want to forget this,” Harry proclaimed, sliding his still slick hand between them and grasping Snape’s rock hard member.

“Potter…” Snape hissed, meaning to object.

But then Potter slid both of his hands under Snape’s arse and tilted Snape’s hips upward just enough.

Severus gasped as Potter hit his prostate, sending desire and pleasure rapidly crescendoing inside of Snape.

“Potter, oh Merlin, Potter…” Snape babbled, lost in the pleasure that was swamping him.

Potter’s own needy moans and cries echoed in agreement.

“Yes, Potter, Yes, YES!” Snape shouted, bucking beneath Potter as his release was wrenched from him. Potter jerked and shuddered at the same time, crying out in ecstasy.

The pleasure went on and on, building, growing, and, as impossible as it was, Snape came again and again, and so did Potter.

Snape jerked his eyes open in wonder as the feelings of ecstasy seemed to ricochet around inside of him. Harry’s eyes were wide and trained on his, the same astonished pleasure clear in them

 “What.. uh, uh, what, oh Merlin, what is…. uh Uh UH… happening?” he screamed, throwing his head back as wave after orgasmic wave washed over them both.

Another sharper, cleaner spike of pure pleasure hit Snape, hard, and he cried out, grasping Potter’s arms, surely leaving bruises. But Potter was shrieking too. And then a bright silver light erupted all around them, flashing through the room, blinding them both. It sparked between them like electricity as it ricocheted wildly around the room, bouncing off the walls, and burning their skin. It danced before their eyes a moment longer before gathering around their bodies and seeping, effortlessly, inside, sweeping the pleasure softly aside to leave contentment and satiation in its place. And something else, something much stronger, though less defined.

Potter collapsed onto Snape, both of them sweaty and heaving.

“Is that how the curse breaks?” Potter asked, his voice ragged.

Snape shivered. He didn’t know what the silver light was, but he doubted it had anything to do with Malfoy’s curse. “Shove off, Potter,” Snape said, pushing at the weight sprawled atop him.

“Right, sorry,” Potter said, slipping to lie next to Snape.

A rioting mass of thoughts rocketed through Snape’s mind, none of them good. “Potter,” he said, more harshly than he intended. “Are you quite done with me?”

“I, er, I think so. I don’t seem to need… er…” Potter cleared his throat, glancing away. “The feeling seems to have passed.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” Snape said, pushing himself out of bed. He grabbed the column of his four poster to steady himself. He still hadn’t caught his breath completely and his body felt like a wet noodle. His legs shook. He needed a shower. He needed to think.

Potter sat up, pulling the sheet to his waist. “I guess I better get back to Gryffindor tower.”

Snape wanted to snap that he damn well better, but there was something more pressing on his mind.

“You will be staying here tonight,” Snape sneered. “We need to be sure you don’t have a relapse.”

“Oh,” Potter said. “What about you?”

“I need to shower and then speak with the Headmaster.” Snape growled. When Potter hesitated, Snape snapped, “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day.”

“Sorry, sir, but is there something I could eat? I’m starving,” he said, his belly rumbling in agreement.

“Oh for the love of Merlin,” Snape replied, rolling his eyes. “Call that damn house elf that’s so fond of you and have him bring up a spread of food for the both of us.” With that, Snape stalked off to the shower.

* * *

It was nearly 1 am when Snape flooed to the headmaster’s office. He wasn’t surprised to find the elderly wizard sitting behind his desk in his pajamas.

“Severus,” Albus welcomed. “How are you and Harry doing?”

“Fine,” Snape spat out. “The curse has been broken.”

“Splendid,” Dumbledore responded. “What can I do for you then?”

Snape glowered at Dumbledore. “It appears we have a new problem.”

“Yes? What is that my dear boy?”

“The curse required that we, ah, both partook in the act,” Snape said with a growl. He stared at Dumbledore, waiting to make sure the headmaster understood, and hoping he wouldn’t have to be more explicit.

“And this was a problem?” Dumbledore inquired.

“No,” Snape shot back. “I did my part first,” Snape said. “And then Potter did his.” Snape took a deep breath and forced himself to maintain eye contact. “We both reached completion both times, but the second time,” Snape paused, gritting his teeth, “we reached completion at the same time. And it was much stronger and lasted much longer than it should have and…”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened, and he leaned forward, hands pressed to the desk. “My dear boy, did you see the light?”

Snape pressed his lips tight together and nodded.

“And was it silver?”

Snape nodded again.

“And did it go inside both you and Harry?”

Another nod.

Dumbledore appeared dumbstruck. “My word,” he murmured, slumping back into his chair. “There hasn’t been a report of that in over 300 years.”

Snape gritted his teeth, his fears confirmed. “Now. What.” Snape spat, hands on his hips.

“Does Harry know?”

“No,” Snape said. “He thought it was just the curse being broken.”

“Did he now,” Dumbledore mused.

“I am not planning on tell him. And neither are you.” Snape declared.

“No, I suppose not. Not yet, at least. Not while he’s still in school,” Dumbledore said, stroking his beard.

“Not ever!” Snape demanded.

“Hmmm….” Dumbledore said. “If you both live through the war…”

“We won’t,” Snape declared.

“But if you do, and you know I’ll do all in my power to see that happen…”

Snape scoffed and got to his feet. “I just thought you should know,” Snape said, before stepping back toward the floo. “It might complicate things.”

When he returned to his quarters, he found Potter sprawled across his bed, sound asleep. The boy was still naked and a tray of half-eaten food lay beside him on his mattress. Cursing, Snape levitated the food tray to the nightstand. He grabbed a nightshirt from his wardrobe and used his wand to clothe the troublesome teen. Then he made up a pallet on his couch and levitated Potter to it. He covered the teen and made his way back to his own bed, casting a freshening charm on the sheets with his wand. He’d be damned if he’d give Potter his bed and sleep on the couch. He was much too old for that.

Snape didn’t fall asleep until well after 4 am, his mind a riot of thoughts at the revelation he’d shared with Dumbledore. The only reassuring thought he had before drifting off was that at least tomorrow was Saturday and he could sleep in.

* * *

Potter awoke with a crick in his neck and back and realized only then that he was sleeping on a couch. He reached out for his glasses, finding them quickly on a table nearby, and slid them onto his face. Stretching, he opened his eyes to see the unfamiliar décor surrounding him. He opened his mouth to yawn when the reality of where he was, and why he was there, struck him like a bludger.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he muttered. Immediately he glanced toward Snape’s bedroom, relieved that the door was still closed. His face flushed as the memories flooded back to him. _Him and Snape. Snape and him._ He groaned and fell back into the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes. He stayed that way, reliving the night before, half mortified and half turned-on. He definitely did NOT want to see Snape this morning, especially in the man’s quarters. With that thought, he opened his eyes and made to push off the couch when he saw a piece of parchment on the coffee table, addressed to him.

_Mr. H. Potter,_

_You are to stay in my quarters until we have a chance to discuss recent events. If you are hungry, summon a house elf. You can busy yourself with your schoolwork, which the house elves transferred to my quarters late last night._

_Do not wake me and do not leave. The consequences of either action will be dire, I assure you._

_S.S._

Harry slumped back on the couch. He could only imagine how Snape would berate him for his behavior last night. He briefly contemplated leaving, but he suspected Snape had put up wards to prevent Harry from doing so, and any attempt on Harry’s part would likely serve only to wake Snape, which would further infuriate the man.

Sighing, and knowing there was nothing for it, Harry pulled out his homework and began to work on an essay for Charms.

An hour later, he ordered breakfast.

An hour after that, he finished his Charms essay, and began his Potions assignment.

An hour and a half after that, he finished Potions and started studying for this Transfiguration exam.

Two hours later, he ordered lunch.

After lunch, he took a shower.


	4. Chapter 4

Snape awoke from a strange dream. A dream filled with silver light and Potter and a Dark-Lord-free world. He woke up feeling shaken and a bit nauseous. His keen nose detected a faint, foreign scent that smelled of sex and Potter and…

“Bloody fucking hell,” he muttered as the memory of last night crashed over him in unwelcome, unbidden waves.

He pushed himself out of bed, tripped across two sets of discarded shoes, and landed hard on his wrist, the distinct sound of a bone cracking ringing out in the silence. He cursed, and sat up, cradling his broken wrist.

Snape’s bedroom door burst open, and there stood Potter, hair wet and wild, eyes blazing, wand drawn. Backlight by the lights in the hall, he looked like some crazed avenger.

“Professor,” Potter called, glancing around frantically until he located Snape sitting on the floor. Potter rushed to his side. “Are you ok? I felt your pain and I… and I…” Potter paused, seeming to realize what he’d said. Potter lowered his wand. Swallowed. Cleared his throat. Refocused on the present. “You’re hurt,” he said.

Snape grunted.

“Is it your wrist? I felt the pain in my wrist.” Potter reached out and placed his hands on either side of Snape’s broken wrist.

“Potter, what do you think you’re… oh…” Snape stuttered, trailing off. In the still dark room, lit only by the light of the open door, a silver light flowed from Potter’s hands, wrapping around Snape’s arm. Heat danced up his skin and seeped inside. In the next instant, the pain disappeared, and a feeling of contentment settled over him.

Snape flexed his fingers experimentally, then moved his wrist. There was no pain at all. It was no longer broken.

“Fuck,” Snape sputtered, ripping his arm away from Potter.

“Professor?” Potter asked.

“Get out of my bedroom,” Snape hissed. “Wait for me in the sitting room. And have the house elves bring you some damn clothes!”

Snape got up off the floor and made his way to the bathroom. He showered, shaved, brushed his hair and teeth, dressed meticulously, and stood, staring blankly into the mirror, until his breathing had calmed, and his stomach rumbled with hunger, and he’d run out of excuses.

Finally, he made his way to where Potter sat, perched on the edge of the couch, the blankets he’d used folded neatly on one corner of the couch, pillow on top.

“Sir,” Potter said, “I ordered lunch a couple of hours ago. There’s plenty left and I put a warming charm on it for you.”

Snape grunted.

“Sir, how come I could feel your pain earlier?”

“How come indeed,” Snape muttered. “I need coffee,” Snape declared and left the room, leaving Potter to stew as Snape contemplated the misery of his new existence. He’d have to tell the boy something.

He brewed his coffee and added just a touch of milk. As he reached for the mug, pain shot through his stomach and he doubled over. It wasn’t his pain though, it was Potter’s.

“Bloody hell,” he spat, rushing into the sitting room to see Potter, keeled over, trying to catch his breath.

“What. Happened.” Snape demanded.

Potter mewled in pain.

Snape stepped over and placed a hand on Potter’s shoulder. Silver light slipped from his hand into Potter and instantly the teen gasped, sucking in air greedily, and sat up. Snape yanked back his hand, looking at it as if had just committed a crime.

“I summoned my book,” Harry said. “And it came flying at me like a bludger! Knocked the wind right out of me.”

Snape frowned. Pointing his wand at his bookshelf, he said, “Accio The Potioneer’s Handbook.” The book shot at him with such speed that Snape ducked. Looking over his shoulder, Snape saw the book smash against the wall and fall to the floor in pieces.

He walked to the book, pointed his wand at it, and said “Reparo.” He stood in awe, Potter at his side, as his once old, worn, and well-thumbed-through book now rested on the floor, new and pristine as the day he’d bought it 20 years ago.

“Bloody hell,” Snape said again.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

Snape glanced at Potter, shook his head, and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed his coffee mug, took down the whiskey he’d drank last night with Albus, and poured a large helping into his coffee. Raising his mug to Potter, he said, “Cheers,” and took a fortifying gulp.

Potter looked at him as if he was losing his mind. Snape couldn’t agree more.

* * *

Harry felt stunned. “So let me get this straight. Last night, while we were trying to break Malfoy’s curse, our magic somehow mixed together and now we can sense when each other is in trouble? Or in pain? And our spells are more powerful?”

Snape took another sip of his spiked coffee. “That about sums it up.”

“Bloody hell,” Potter uttered.

“Indeed,” Snape said.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I never meant for any of this to happen. The curse was bad enough, but now you’re sort of stuck with me.”

“I’ve been stuck with you since you set foot in this school,” Snape lamented.

Potter hung his head. His voice took on a soft, wistful tone. “Last night was…”

“Not something we will ever mention again!” Snape said hotly, slamming down his mug. “This isn’t a game, Potter. If you hadn’t… if Malfoy hadn’t…” Snape turned away. “You have no idea of the repercussions of all of this.”

“Then tell me,” Potter implored.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this isn’t just about you, Potter!” Snape shouted.

“I know it’s not, Professor. Believe me, _I know._ ”

“I don’t think you do,” Snape said silkily. “Unless we find a way to tame this link, I will no longer be able to spy for Dumbledore. I will be of no use to the Order. I will be killed long before the war is over, and all of my sacrifices will have been for naught.”

“What do you mean, Professor?”

“And that’s not all!” Snape continued. “If I am right, this… connection… between us, will demand to be renewed, on a regular basis.”

“What? You mean… like last night?”

“Yes,” Snape hissed.

“But you said the curse was broken!” Potter exclaimed.

“It is,” Snape snapped, “but somehow, you’ve managed to lock us into another magical bond that’s just as strong if not stronger!”

Potter swallowed. “Are you sure?”

“Use your brain, Potter! Did you not feel my pain? Did you not heal my injury? Has your magic not increased ten-fold?” Snape ran a hand through his hair. “Magic like that has a _price_ , Potter. It will demand _to be fed_ so to speak.”

“But I don’t want this,” Potter whined.

“Do you think I do?” Snape shouted.

“No, but…” Harry kicked at the run beneath his foot. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he whined.

“You never mean for these things to happen! But when you are around, they just do, Potter!”

“It’s not like I’d have chosen _you_ if I had a choice,” Potter snapped back.

Snape leaned forward menacingly. “You think I don’t know that, Potter?” Baring his teeth, Snape sneered. “You think I would have chosen _you_? You think I want to tie my lot in life to _you_? A boy who barrels ahead with no planning, no forethought? An impulsive, reckless child who thinks only of himself?”

Potter stood up to his full height, intending to defend himself, to tell Snape where he could shove his damn observations, when a force beyond himself had his mouth on Snape’s. Snape swore, grabbed Potter, and pulled the teen to him, kissing him fiercely.

After a moment, Snape shoved him away, dragging his forearm across his mouth.

Potter stared up at him, breathless.

“This is exactly what I mean!” Snape said. “This is just not manageable. It’s as bad as that damn curse, only less predictable.”

Potter touched his lips, his eyes lit up in wonder.

“Don’t you go getting all soft on me, Potter,” Snape said, whirling away. “ _This isn’t real_ ,” Snape spat, although he knew he was lying.

“Then what is it?” Potter asked. “If the curse is broken, then what is this?”

Potter stepped forward and Snape sidestepped him, holding up his hands to ward Potter off.

“You are a hormonal teenager with little self-control. You aren’t even an adult yet. Don’t insult me with your pubescent display of… of… whatever this is.”

Harry looked at him and cocked his head. “That silver light,” he said. “What did it mean?”

Snape felt the blood leave his face. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying,” Potter said. “What does it mean?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Snape retorted. “If we both lived through the war, it _might_ matter, but that’s not going to happen. For now we need to figure out a way to deal with _this…”_ Snape said, gesturing to the both of them.

“I can think of something,” Potter said, advancing on him.

“Stop thinking with your dick and start thinking with your head!” Snape demanded.

Potter paused. “It was just a thought.”

“And an idiotic one at that,” Snape said. He wasn’t immune to the pull, not by any means. But one of them had to keep their wits about them, and Potter clearly wasn’t able to. “Not to mention you are still my student and I am still your professor. Therefore any relationship between us is entirely inappropriate.”

“I only have one year left,” Potter commented.

Snape snorted. “By the end of _this_ year, Potter, I am sure you will hate me more than any man alive.”

“I don’t hate you,” Potter said.

“You will,” Snape insisted.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because, Potter, you never think. You just act. And when the time comes, you will do the same. You won’t think with your brain, you will feel with your heart. And your heart will come to despise me.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Potter asked.

“Prove to me that I am and we’ll talk,” Snape said. “But right now, we need to figure out how to manage this.”

Potter ran a hand through his hair and collapsed on the couch. “What if I need you?”

“No,” Snape said. “This is not like the curse. You might feel a pull but you will be able to resist it.”

“And if I can’t?” Potter asked.

“Then I will know how weak you are and I will turn you away regardless.”

“What if you need me?” Potter asked.

“I won’t,” Snape stated unequivocally, knowing again how much he lied.

“And when I’m of age and no longer a student?”

“You will still hate me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then by all means, Potter, seek me out.” Snape said the words, but he didn’t mean them. Didn’t dare mean them.

“Alright,” Potter said. “How do we weaken the link?”

“We consult the Headmaster,” Snape said, stepping to his floo and calling the man in question.


	5. Chapter 5

“Harry,” Dumbledore greeted, “it’s good to see you returned to normal.”

Harry flushed, feeling awkward. “Er, sorry about last night, sir.”

“No need to apologize, Harry. Better wizards than you have been caught unawares by curses like that.” Dumbledore glanced around the room, taking in Snape and Harry, before continuing. “To what do I owe this lovely invitation?”

Snape cleared his throat. “As we discussed last night,” Snape began, “Potter and I seem to be experiencing some… repercussions.”

“Such as?” the Headmaster asked.

“Professor Snape hurt his wrist this morning, and I felt it,” Harry contributed.

Snape looked at Potter crossly before speaking. “I tripped and broke my wrist. Potter rushed to my aid,” Snape said sardonically. “Furthermore, his touch alone appears to have healed the fracture.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t say,” he murmured.

“And when I got the wind knocked out me,” Harry added, “Snape touched my shoulder, and immediately I could breathe again.”

“Professor Snape, Harry,” Dumbledore said, glancing toward Snape, who simply nodded.

“Well, that certainly could be useful,” the Headmaster mused, stroking his beard.

“We will not be using the connection!” Snape sneered.

“Hmmm,” Dumbledore said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Anything else I should know about?”

Snape frowned, looking unwilling to speak up.

“Our magic has increased,” Harry offered, looking hesitantly between Snape and Dumbledore.

“Has it now?” Dumbledore asked with a knowing smile.

“We need to put a damper on this right now,” Snape said. “Surely you can see how _distracting_ this could be.”

Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectables, considering. “That could also be very useful,” he said.

“Headmaster…” Snape growled.

Raising his hands in defeat, Dumbledore spoke. “I understand your concerns, Severus, and I can see how this link could interfere in many things at present.”

Snape looked relieved. Harry just felt confused.

“Have you noticed any other new abilities?” Dumbledore asked.

“There hasn’t been much time, but I suspect I would be aware if Potter was in danger,” Snape said.

“And if that were the case,” Dumbledore asked, “do you think your link could lead you to him?”

“I suspect so,” Snape responded, thought he didn’t look happy about it.

Dumbledore began to pace, and that alone made Harry nervous. He had the distinct feeling that Snape and the Headmaster were keeping something from him.

“There may come a time when this link could be very useful to you both,” Dumbledore said, sharing a significant look with Snape.

Not liking the feeling of being left out of the conversation, Harry spoke up. “Like when I have to face Voldemort again?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore agreed. “That would be one such time. The addition of Snape’s magic to yours could be immensely useful.”

“Now, however, is _not_ that time,” Snape snapped. “I don’t need Potter rushing to my side to save me every time I stub my toe!”

Harry bit back a smile. He half expected Snape to put his hands on his hips and stamp his foot like a frustrated child.

“And I needn’t remind you, Albus,” Snape said, his tone dangerous now, “that such a link requires _payment_ at regular intervals.” Snape’s eyes snapped at Potter, warning against asking for clarification.

“Payment?” Harry asked recklessly.

Snape groaned. “A repeat of last night,” Snape replied wearily.

Harry’s mouth broke into an “Oh”.

“And I needn’t remind you, Potter,” Snape snapped, “that you are underage and you are still a student, _my_ student, and any such conduct would be highly inappropriate.”

Harry shrugged.

“I agree, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “The time is not yet right for such a strong link to be needed. However,” Dumbledore paused.

Snape groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

“I do believe that it would be prudent to leave access to the link, should it be needed,” Dumbledore finished.

“Is that possible?” Harry asked.

At the same time, Snape said, “And just how do you plan to do that?”

They both looked expectantly at the Headmaster.

“There was a time when such links happened more frequently. Sometimes they happened rather sooner than a couple’s parents might have wished,” Dumbledore said, gazing at them both. “In such cases, the parents would often truss the magic up, so to speak, leaving it there, but inaccessible, until such a time the parents deemed it prudent. When the couple was older, for instance.”

“How was it unbound?” Snape inquired.

“There were many different ways, but my initial thought is this. We can wind the linked magic around your cores and knot the ends. Then your lives will essentially return to normal. However, should there come a time when your combined skills are required, or one or the other of you is in danger, you could untie the knot and the link would be re-established. The unbinding and releasing spells are something you two will need to practice, though.”

Snape groaned again. “Am I never to be rid of you, Potter?”


	6. Chapter 6

The following day, Harry found himself once more in Snape’s private quarters with Snape and the Headmaster. He’d had some time to reflect on what had happened. As he’d expected, he clearly was embarrassed by his excessively needy behavior toward Snape from Malfoy’s curse. He blushed to remember how he’d thrown himself at the older wizard, forced himself on the man really, taking whatever pleasure he needed. He shook the thought away; there was nothing he could do about that now.

What was less expected, however, was that he wasn’t repulsed by what had happened. He thought he would be, he definitely thought he _should_ be, but something in the link that had formed—and whatever that silver light had represented—made him see Snape in a new light. No longer did Snape appear to be the cruel, heartless man he had seemed. Now, Snape seemed and _felt_ more nuanced, more conflicted, and more determined than ever. Snape’s double-agent role was clearer than ever in Harry’s mind, and he didn’t envy the dual nature the man was required to convey at all times. Harry wondered if he’d ever have the opportunity to meet the man behind the mask. Unless they managed to defeat Voldemort and they both lived through it, Harry doubted it.

The most unexpected of all was the attraction he felt for Snape. It had not been there before, and Snape assured him that once Malfoy’s compulsion curse was broken, there would be no residual effects. But that didn’t take into account the new link that had been formed between them. Harry could feel Snape and his magic swirl within him. He imagined that such an intimate exchange was bound to have some effect. He was sure that Snape felt it as well, though he knew the man would never admit it.

Harry hadn’t told Ron or Hermione what had happened. It would make no sense to them that his feelings for Snape had changed so drastically overnight, and he wasn’t about to admit to all that had transpired between them physically.

Harry turned his attention away from his friends and returned it to the Headmaster’s presence.

“Have you come up with a suitable solution?” Snape asked the Headmaster.

“I believe I have,” Dumbledore replied. “I am going to teach you both two spells. One will read each of your magical signatures, separate them, and bind your partner’s magic, but not your own. For this step, you will need to be together so that the spell can identify each of your signatures and complete the binding.”

Harry and Snape nodded.

Dumbledore cleared his throat before continuing. “As the war approaches, the likelihood that one or both of you may need each’s magical or corporeal assistance will increase. Both of your lives will be in danger, and for this reason, I do not regret the link that was inadvertently created between the two of you. It may be that this link becomes the thing that saves your lives renables us to defeat Voldemort.”

“This is where the second spell comes in. If a situation should arise where you need to activate your link, you will be able to cast the second spell to release the binding. Doing so will release the magical link within both you _and_ your partner.”

“What are you saying, Headmaster?” Snape hissed, though from the look on his face, Harry thought he knew.

“I am saying that if you are in grave danger, Severus, you will be able to not only release Harry’s magic within you, but also your magic within Harry, thereby solidifying the link between you and allowing Harry to assist you.”

“Are you insane?” Snape breathed. “You expect me to call upon Potter if I find myself in danger?”

“I expect you, Severus, to use all available tools at your disposal to keep yourself and Harry alive and ensure Harry’s ability to defeat Lord Voldemort.” Dumbledore’s voice was steely, his expression severe.

“Surely you understand the chance you are taking,” Snape breathed. “If Potter should get bored and wish to toy with me, he could risk everything we have worked so hard for!”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Harry protested.

“Potter, you never think! You jump into situations with no forethought, no planning. You live by the seat of your pants. Your recklessness could get us all killed.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore calmed, “I trust Harry to use this link only if absolutely necessary.”

“Well I don’t!” Snape snapped.

“I would never intentionally endanger you,” Potter said. “Or the war effort.”

“You never do anything intentionally, Potter. Things with you just happen. I will not be one of them!”

“You already are, my boy,” Dumbledore said quietly.

Snape opened his mouth but Dumbledore raised a hand to still him. “Let us define the parameters with which this link is to be unbound.” Dumbledore turned his full attention to Harry.

“Harry, do you agree to _only_ release the binding and resurrect the magical link that exists between you two if it is a true emergency? If, for instance, your life, or the life of Professor Snape, is in grave danger?”

“I do, sir,” Harry replied earnestly.

“Or if you find yourself battling Voldemort and believe that an influx of Severus’s magic would help to ensure victory?”

“Yes, sir. I agree, sir.”

 “And you understand that the only way to rebind the magical link is by performing the spell I will teach you while you are in each other’s company?”

“Yes. I understand.”

“And Severus,” Dumbledore said, turning to Snape, “If you feel the binds of Harry’s magic being released within you, do you agree to go to Harry and assist him to the best of your ability?”

“You know I do,” Snape replied.

“And if you find yourself in mortal peril, Severus, and Harry would be able to assist you without endangering himself or the war effort, do you agree to release the binding spell and call him to your side?”

Snape scoffed and pressed his lips together.

“Your word, Severus,” Dumbledore commanded.

“Fine,” Snape spat with resentment. “I. Do.”

“Then you will shake on it,” Dumbledore said.

Harry reached out his hand immediately, but Snape hesitated.

The Headmaster gave Snape a harsh look, causing Snape to thrust his hand forward.

The minute their hands clasped, silver light escaped from their pores, encasing their hands, and spinning out around them.

Harry glanced wide-eyed at Snape, who returned his look of shock. The next moment, they were thrust together, bodies, hands, and tongues, kissing each other with abandon.

Heat raced through Harry’s body and the feeling of “rightness” echoed in every cell in his body. Pleasure spiked through him, as if of an impending orgasm, even though they were doing nothing more than kissing. Harry moaned at the feeling and then felt himself pushed harshly away. Snape swore and wiped at his mouth, spinning out of Harry’s reach.

“You see, Albus? This is untenable!” Snape shouted. In a whisper, Snape added, “Already the link demands payment.”

The Headmaster looked equal parts stunned and amused. “Yes, Severus, I do see.” Dumbledore paced the length of Snape’s sitting room. “You have more self-control than any witch or wizard I know. If you cannot resist the link, Severus…” Dumbledore let his words hang in the air, shaking his head.

Harry stood there, feeling dazed. He met Snape’s eyes, seeing the same wonder and desire reflected back at him. Snape cursed and looked away.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said. “You will need to hold hands for this. Perhaps you should stand on opposite sides of the sofa?”

Snape snorted. “It won’t help. Just teach us the spell and we’ll get through it.”

Harry touched his fingers to his swollen lips. “If what Malfoy did was a curse, what is this? Is it not also a curse?”

“Curses can be broken,” Snape spat.

“And this can’t be?” Harry asked, shocked.

“The spell, Albus?” Snape said, ignoring Harry’s question.

* * *

They worked on the intricate Latin wording for the next hour. At a distance from one another, and not touching, they practiced the words and hand movements.

“Ready, Potter?” Snape said.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry replied. Harry looked hesitantly between Snape and Dumbledore. “Professor Snape, sir… when we touch…”

“I. Know. Potter.” Snape sighed. “Just do your best to keep your wits about you and say the damn spell so we can put an end to this.”

Harry nodded, bracing himself.

Wands in their right hands, Harry and Snape clasped their left hands. Snape grunted and closed his eyes, resisting the pull of the spell. When it thrust them together anyway, Snape kept his lips tightly closed. Harry felt Snape’s heart rate increase. Their foreheads were pressed together and Harry was doing his best to follow Snape’s lead.

Snape opened his eyes to glance at Harry, and the second their gazes met, they were kissing frantically. Snape pulled away with a curse. “Keep your eyes shut,” he said raggedly.

Harry promptly closed his eyes and bit his lip.

Snape turned his head to the side, his temple pressed against Harry’s forehead.

Harry did the same. Their cheeks and temples now touched, but at least they couldn’t kiss each other like this.

“On the count of three then,” Snape said, his voice unsteady, his grasp on Harry’s hand almost painful. “One…two…three…”

* * *

Albus Dumbledore watched in awe as two of the people he admired, respected, and loved the most fought the demands of an ancient soul bond, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in over 300 years. He himself had only ever read about it in books. It was stunning to behold. A silver essence flared and shimmered all around them, weaving them inexorably together, dancing across their skin, before sinking back into each of them.

They struggled to speak the words as the bond demanded its due. He could see how much it cost them to resist its pull and go forward with the spell casting. But Severus had been correct. Now was not the time to give in to such a bond. There was a war to be fought, and much to be done. And both would be hard-pressed to hide their much-strengthened magic and their attraction if left unbound.

The spell complete, the wand movements executed properly, Albus watched eagerly to see if his assistance was needed.

Both men shuddered in unison. Snape’s wand hand dropped first. He stumbled backwards, catching himself before falling by sheer strength of will. Harry, on the other hand, fell in a dead faint. Snape tried to catch him, but it was no use. Still, Snape bent down and picked up the young man, carrying him to the couch and setting him there, much to Dumbledore’s delight.

“How are you feeling, Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

“Exhausted,” Snape said.

Just then, Harry’s eyes fluttered open. “Did it work?”

“Say my name,” Snape demanded.

Harry looked confused, but said, “Professor Snape.” Harry’s body jerked slightly as he said it.

“Again,” Snape commanded.

“Professor Snape,” Harry whispered. This time, there was no shudder.

“Potter,” Snape said, holding himself rigid. “Mr. Potter,” he repeated, relaxing. And finally, “Harry Potter.” Snape heaved a deep sign and closed his eyes for a moment. “One more test,” Snape said, looking intently at Harry and holding out this hand.

Harry reached for it tentatively, biting his lip before taking it.

“Look at me,” Snape commanded.

Harry did so, lurching slightly toward Snape but then settling back into the couch.

“What do you feel, Potter?” Snape said with a slight jerk.

“Um, I feel… I still feel drawn to you, but it’s manageable.”

“Say my name.”

“Professor Snape,” Harry said.

Hands clasped, eyes locked, names spoken. And still they were able to remain on their own sides of the couch.

Snape nodded, and released Harry’s hand. “Very good. It works.”

“One more thing,” Dumbledore said. “You both need to practice the releasing spell.”

Snape cursed and Harry groaned.

“Tomorrow, then,” Dumbledore proclaimed. “Tomorrow, Harry, you can do the release and then re-establish the binding. The day after, Severus can do the same.”

“Is that really necessary, Headmaster?” Snape inquired.

“I’m afraid it is,” Dumbledore said. “You both need to know how to do it, and how it feels when it’s done. In fact, I suggest you do it from a bit of a distance. Harry in your office, perhaps, while you remain in your quarters.”

Snape looked daggers at Dumbledore. “You do realize, Headmaster, that the longer we deny the link, the stronger it’s pull will become.” Snape glanced at Harry, then back to the Headmaster. “I cannot guarantee that I’ll be able to resist it’s pull.”

“Well,” Dumbledore said, “it seems Malfoy’s curse has already settled that matter. Do what needs to be done so that you are both proficient at establishing and releasing the link.” Dumbledore’s gaze settled on each of them. “I have complete faith in you both.” Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on each man’s shoulder. “Furthermore, I believe everything happens for a reason. I would be greatly surprised if this link doesn’t prove essential to both of you over time.”

With those cryptic words, Dumbledore took his leave. If both men survived the war, Albus knew they’d be inseparable. He guessed that Harry would be much more ready to live with such a bond than the potion’s master. Severus Snape, no matter what he said, would never feel worthy of Harry Potter and would continually try to push him away. The only thing that eased Dumbledore’s heart was knowing that, try as he might, the bond wouldn’t let him. He only hoped that Severus would come to accept and find peace and comfort in something as ancient as magic and Merlin himself.

~FIN~

_This is Story 1 of 3 of the Soul Magic Series._


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